


What Did You Do?

by imusuallyobsessed



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: CEO Felicity Smoak, F/M, Facial Hair, Fluff, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Olicity, Mayor Oliver Queen, OHFAT, Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon, at odds, olicity - Freeform, sex ban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: Oliver comes home some day rocking a new look, and Felicity is understandably horrified. OHFAT prompt: At odds.





	What Did You Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks @scu11y22 for the encouragement! I saw a post about how Stephen Amell can have the goatee now that he doesn’t have to deal with flashbacks. This is how I would feel about such a development. Unbeta'd, so please be kind!

“What. Is. _That_?!”

Oliver froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as he searched the ground floor of the loft. Felicity didn’t care that she’d probably scared him. Okay, she cared a _little_ , his past was nothing to be glib about, but she thought her shrieking was warranted.

“I meant on you _face_!”

“Oh.” Oliver visibly relaxed and ran a hand over his chin. “I decided to go for something new. What do you think?”

The lower half of Oliver’s face – once covered with a delicious layer of scruff in the form of the most beautiful, perfect-length beard in existence – was now sporting a goatee.

“I… There aren’t any words.”

Felicity felt kind of bad. She didn’t want to be the type of wife who told their husband what to wear or anything, but this was… this was sacrilege.

Oliver, the idiot, just grinned. “Well, that’s never good.”

He came closer and reached for Felicity. She recognized that look in his eye, but was too slow to stop it. He swooped down and captured her lips in a tender kiss, but Felicity only allowed the contact for a second before she pulled back and made a face.

“Frack, no.”

Oliver’s brows furrowed. “That’s not your usual reaction to kissing me. Am I losing my touch?”

“Yours lips are in perfect order.” Felicity reached up and ran her fingers over the pillow mountains in question, ignoring the zing of heat when Oliver gently bit on to her thumb. She recaptured her thumb and cupped his chin. “It’s this that’s the problem.”

Oliver’s eyes remained clouded with confusion. “You… won’t kiss me because of the goatee?”

“And people say you’re just a pretty face.” Felicity patted Oliver’s unfortunately beard-less cheek and wandered back into the kitchen. She took a bigger-than-usual gulp of red wine from her glass. She’d been so excited for tonight. There was a movie queued up on the TV, a fire going to ward off the autumn chill, and Felicity was wearing her good panties for fracks sake. And Oliver had to go ruin her plans.

Their one brief kiss had felt… wrong. It felt like Felicity was kissing a stranger. She definitely couldn’t have sex with him tonight now.

“Hon, let’s talk about this.”

Oliver had unfrozen from his shock and followed Felicity into the kitchen. He was starting to look a tad concerned, his brows pulled together and mouth pinched. Good. He should be nervous. He wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

Felicity shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she lamented. “I had plans for tonight. You would’ve loved them. But now…”

“Plans?” Oliver asked, getting closer. He wrapped an arm around Felicity’s waist, but she was focusing mournfully on her merlot.

She nodded. “Naked plans,” she said. Oliver’s arm tightened around her waist and his head bent to her neck, but Felicity managed to swerve away from his mouth. “You’ve been so busy with city hall and I’ve been so busy nailing Smoak Tech contracts.”

Felicity laid her had on Oliver’s chest and finally looked to his face. He looked truly pained now. Felicity couldn’t stop focusing on the horrible goatee.

“I have a movie set up. Wine. I was hoping you’d cook dinner or I could order out. I’m even wearing the red underwear. With the ribbons.”

Oliver’s eyes darkened. His hand slid down her back to grip her ass, roving over her yoga pants and under her baggy shirt – stolen from his side of the closet – for the ribbons that tied his favorite pair of her underwear together.

Felicity just shook her head, not reacting.

“Felicity…” he whined, having found the bumps. He leaned down and kissed her again. Felicity allowed it for a moment, tangling her tongue with his. Just to test it out. Maybe the first kiss hadn’t been as bad as she thought.

“Oh, no, no. Sorry, babe.” Felicity pulled her head away and stepped out of her husband’s arms. “It feels like I’m kissing an old biker who’s gonna spit tobacco and call me ‘Toots.’”

“Hon, you can’t be serious.”

Felicity’s glare turned sharp. “Don’t _hon_ me. And don’t use those eyes, either! I’m immune, mister. At least… mostly.”

When Oliver tried to dial up the charm, Felicity turned away and marched back to the open bottle of wine. “No kisses while that woodland creature is living on your face.”

Oliver went pale. Felicity felt a _little_ bad, but Oliver had betrayed her first. The beautiful scruff, shaved off and replaced…

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m 100 percent serious, Mr. Mayor. Moratorium on all kissing until you come to your senses. What does the press think? Do they have an opinion on what Mayor Handsome has done to his gorgeous, beautiful, titillating…”

“You’re the only one I want to titillate, honey.”

Oliver sidled closer, sliding his arms around Felicity’s waist. She was on to him, though, and quickly turned to put her refilled glass of wine between them.

“Sorry, babe. You brought this on yourself.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “You know, you love my body as much as I love yours. You’re really only punishing yourself.”

Felicity straightened indignantly. Sure, that was true, but it was rude to point out when she was in _mourning_.

“Are you implying that you can go longer without sex than me?”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Oliver’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I thought you just said kissing! Since when did this evolve to no sex?”

“When you decided to question my restraint. Challenge accepted, buddy.”

As she walked away, maybe with a little more sway in her hips than usual, she heard Oliver groan and a _thunk_ as his head hit the counter.

The next day’s headlines made Felicity laugh on the inside. And a little on the outside.

_Mayor Handsome Shaves Off Four Hotness Points!_

_Queen Transforms Into Member of Biker Gang Overnight!_

_Mayor Queen Turned Hobo Chic?_

_Kibosh on Kisses? Starling’s Royal Couple Hasn’t Locked Lips Since!_

The last one was a bit premature since it had been less than 24 hours since Felicity laid down the law, but it wasn’t too farfetched. She and Oliver were a very affectionate couple, and the lack of kissing would’ve tipped off the gossip rags Felicity read only in secret.

But still, Felicity refused to break her rule. They cuddled, they held hands, but Felicity refused to let his mouth touch hers until she didn’t feel slimey when it happened.

Oliver cajoled. Tricked. Even begged one particularly… _hard_ night, but Felicity held firm.

Finally, five days later, Felicity came home _ravenous_. Not for her husband’s delicious lasagna, though she could smell it permeating the air of the loft when she got home from work. Just for her husband in general.

Frack the rule. Felicity was sure she could ignore his goatee if it was applied to _other_ parts of her body.

But it looked like Oliver was done, too. He was standing in the kitchen, his back turned while he prepped the salad. He was wearing an apron. _Only_ an apron.

Her husband’s ass was a work of art. The scars licking down one cheek, extended from the burn on his back, were just another part of the masterpiece.

Felicity was already done. She was ready to climb her husband like a tree and get down to business.

Then, he turned around.

His expression was smug, like he already knew how she’d react. And she wasn’t even mad.

Because his beard was back.

“Oh _frack_ , baby.”

Felicity didn’t remember crossing the room. Oliver met her in the middle and their mouths crashed into each other. Teeth clacked, tongues tangled, and Felicity couldn’t stop moaning.

“Come on, hon. We have some catching up to do,” Oliver growled, and Felicity melted.

They flew to the bedroom and slammed the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Tumblr: [@imusuallyobsessed](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@usuallyobsessed](https://twitter.com/usuallyobsessed)


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